A Dance at Midnight
by serpentineinfinity
Summary: Elsa doesn't dance, and Anna wants to know why. But what she discovers leads to a turn that she never expected the night to take… One-shot. Elsanna (Yes, they are related. Set post-canon).


She's always jealous when it happens—the smiling faces, the bright eyes, the lips that meet her sister's gloved fingers…

With that chivalrous mask they wear hiding their true intentions, all of the Queen's suitors never fail to bring out the side of Anna that she very well knows is best kept hidden. It's something she's been struggling with for quite a while now, and yet...it's also something that she's just learned to accept. Because, admitted to no one, Anna has been feeling much more than jealous for a very long time.

It had started the very first day they'd opened the gates again; Anna remembers it clearly. That same day that Elsa had taken her by the hand and shown her that she could skate—a feat that Anna had once thought to be impossible—had been the same day that Anna had realized why her love for Elsa has always felt so impossible to convey in its entirety.

Anna's love for her sister far surpasses that of what it should.

It's why she had risked her own life in multiple ways to both find and save Elsa in those nearly fateful hours after her sister's coronation. It's why she catches her gaze lingering on Elsa's lips, sometimes, when she's speaking. It's why she feels a sense of guilt for always longing for one of those hugs that Elsa is slowly beginning to give out more often. And it's why she stares a little too freely when she thinks her sister isn't looking.

Tonight, at the formal gathering being held in the grand ballroom of the castle, it's why her heart clenches and her jaw sets and her eyes narrow— _ever_ so subtly—when each suitor approaches the Queen.

But…it's also why she nearly smiles in both delight and relief every time her sister proclaims that she does not dance. And Anna finds herself thinking: _Good_. Because it just means that the ever-growing _closeness_ she has to her sister—which Anna treasures now that Elsa no longer shuts herself behind a closed door—is something that she will not need to share with anyone else for a very long time…

Still, though, there is a part of Anna that has always been curious.

Why is it that her sister—bold, beautiful Elsa—turns down everyone who attempts to attract her attention?

For the Queen is not the same timid woman who ran from her fears and her powers on the night of her coronation; Elsa is confident now, and strong. She is a valiant monarch who rules her kingdom in a fair and just way, and she is also a master of her art. The magic that she once saw as a curse, Anna knows, is now a power that she still wields cautiously, but no longer as sparingly—the simple flick of her wrist turns fountains into abstract solid sculptures that glisten in the winter sun, or finely detailed decorations that line the halls of the castle at Anna's request.

Elsa is _beautiful_ inside and out, and she could have anyone she chooses…

* * *

"I just…don't dance, Anna. That's all there is to it."

It's nearing midnight, very late in the evening after the guests have left, and Anna is sitting cross-legged in her nightgown at the foot of her sister's bed in the room that is bathed in only the glow from the moonlight. The full moon's beams fall directly on Elsa's loose, platinum blonde hair, which looks nearly white as it frames not only her face but the rest of her gorgeous features. It's a sight that not one other person in Arendelle but Anna is allowed to see: the Queen, sitting against her many pillows in a pale, blue nightgown. And it's a sight that Anna selfishly always wants to remain all her own.

Anna's late-night conversations with her sister have become rather commonplace now, and tonight is no different—with the sole exception being that the topic Anna has dared to explore is one that has most certainly never come up before. That's why she absentmindedly toys with the seam of the quilted blanket at the edge of the bed, feeling almost silly for asking such questions.

 _Wrong_ , even.

But despite the feelings that she harbors deep down inside—or maybe it's actually _because_ of them?—Anna feels as though she wants to know.

"Are you sure it's just about the dancing, though?" Anna asks, for once not studying Elsa's deep blue eyes and instead focusing more on a loose thread in the stitching of the material between her fingers, "Because there's no denying that they're all suitors. And I mean…" Anna trails off here, no longer sure that she trusts herself to speak on the subject in too much detail, "Well, you know what I mean."

Elsa lets out a breath, then—gentle and quiet, but not subtle enough for Anna to miss. There's a familiar chill in the air that Anna knows hasn't come from the window, and the thread she's been playing with suddenly comes free from the blanket when Anna pulls it with a bit too much force.

There's so much that Anna wants to say but knows that she can't, and her curiosity is going to dig her into a very deep hole if she doesn't tread lightly.

"I suppose…" Elsa starts, and then she stops. It seems like she's really trying to consider the way she wants to phrase her words before she says them, "I suppose that when you put it that way, it doesn't have as much to do with the dancing as it does who I would be dancing with."

"But do you think there ever could be anyone?" Anna presses on, and it is only then that she allows her eyes to meet Elsa's own.

"Anyone I'd dance with?" Elsa says, although they both know what she really means by it now, "I don't know."

"You're always so sure of everything now, though," Anna counters, "Surely you'd know if you met the right person."

Elsa is silent for a moment after that, but she still holds Anna's gaze when she replies, "I don't know if that's something I'm even looking for."

"Why not?" Anna asks, her determination to know getting the better of her.

"Because, Anna…" Elsa pauses again and draws in another breath in contemplation. The chill in the air is slowly dissipating, and the next words that her sister speaks come out in a soft, yet purposeful way, "I already have everything that I could ever want right here."

And so there it is—a little spark in Anna's heart created by none other than her sister's seemingly deliberate confession, melting the thin ice Anna's been treading on while fighting to keep her own feelings at bay.

 _Hope_.

Because even if Elsa has never before given Anna just cause to believe that she could feel even an _ounce_ of the kind of deeply rooted, boundless love that Anna feels towards her…Anna's mind takes optimism and runs with it. In fact, Anna's built her entire _life_ on optimism—all those years of waiting outside of Elsa's closed door, constantly knocking and hoping that one day it would be different; that maybe if she tried just a _little bit harder_ , she could get through to Elsa…

Maybe that's why Anna becomes more confident in the questions she asks and the messages she conveys tonight—so very straightforward even though they are cloaked under the guise of dancing alone.

"So if I asked you to dance with me, then?" Anna's words ring in the air, as deliberate as the ones before them.

She's wearing her heart on her sleeve, now, and asking if her hopeful assumptions are true in the only way she knows how. She wants to make sure that she's not mistaking her sister's words for something they are not, but rather responding to them in exactly the way they've been received—which is that Elsa could possibly feel as Anna herself does. And, driven by the idea of wishful thinking or not, the way in which Anna has done so has revealed the sheer depth of her own feelings in the process.

But if the Queen is at all taken off-guard at the realization of what Anna is insinuating, she does not falter in her response, "Then I would say yes."

Anna's heart surges well past hope, then, and starts beating so loudly she wonders how Elsa doesn't hear it. Because this...this is _all Anna has ever wanted_ —and yet, she's nervous as hell because of what she's about to do next.

A dance is supposed to be simple, but now its meaning is intricate and deep and complex, mirroring all of the emotions that are running rampant in Anna's mind as she slowly slides down from the bed. Her bare feet hit the wooden panels of the floor and she barely dares to breathe as she extends her hand to Elsa, palm upturned, and asks the question she's spoken of only moments prior.

"May I have this dance?"

The Queen is on her feet far more quickly than Anna had been, leaving no doubt in Anna's mind that this is what she wants despite the fact that she no longer replies in words. She places her pale hand in Anna's own with confidence, and Anna can't help but wonder at how _warm_ it is.

Anna also can't help but notice how warm the entire room seems to be as she slips her other arm around Elsa's waist—leaving nothing between them except two thin pieces of fabric and the shared realization of this newfound, almost frighteningly beautiful understanding they have both just come to, without even speaking about it directly…

There is no music, but they make do—Anna's pounding heart is her metronome to their silent dance, her own steps growing more confident as she comes to terms with the fact that they are _actually_ doing this. And when Elsa brings their dance to an abrupt halt, Anna's heartbeat continues to pick up the pace where their feet have left off, all on its own accord. Because the hand that had once held her own is now brushing pleasantly across her cheek with a gentle movement of Elsa's thumb, and Anna instinctively leans into the touch as she lets her eyes fall shut; waiting— _always_ waiting—for her older sister to make the next move.

And while only moments have passed, it seems like it's been a full eternity when Elsa carefully yet purposefully tips Anna's chin upward and presses her lips to Anna's own.

It's soft, like Anna always imagined it would be—loving and gentle and warm. And it's pure, absolute bliss— _heaven_ , in a way that others might see hell…but as Elsa wastes no time in guiding them both back to the bed, Anna has a feeling that this will only ever be their own little secret.

"Are you sure you want this?" Anna asks as she curls her fingers through Elsa's hair, desperately eager to have them anywhere— _everywhere_ —else.

"Yes," Elsa breathes in confirmation, and it's the end of the last conversation they share for quite a while that night.

There becomes little need for words when their lips can do all of the talking simply by being intertwined, and there is no need for a detailed discussion when Anna is allowed to trace whatever letters and patterns she'd like on Elsa's bare skin. She spells out her long-kept desires with purposeful strokes of her tongue, _showing_ Elsa how much she loves her until the next word out of the Queen's mouth is a cry of Anna's own name.

It's a dance in its very own right, and it is one that Anna graciously accepts when it's Elsa's turn to lead.

* * *

 **A/n:** Normal disclaimer that I don't own Frozen or any of it's characters. But other than that, I've never written anything in the actual canon setting with them still being related before so this was really different for me...but I kinda just wanted to go for it lol. And I promise I'm still working on the next chapter of TPD! But it's always fun to write something new every now and then.


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